It is pretty illusive in life. I don’t think it exists in anything I do or, for that matter, have ever done. And I can’t say that I’ve ever expected perfection in anything. Little I do in the conduct of my work or life is perfect. If anyone can say their existence is perfect, I’d like to see that life.
But there are odd moments of perfection that can punctuate a life. They may not be actually perfect but they seem like it at the time. And they are special when set beside a moment that is less than perfect.
But before I get to all of that, a silly, light moment of perfection from another life. Continue reading